Forbidden Touch
by Fire Lord Azula
Summary: One night, Katara finds herself in a precarious situation, and it's all thanks to our favorite goldeneyed sadist... [ Azutara, oneshot, not a happy 'fic. ]


This came to me in a dream... a very odd dream, but one I couldn't shake. There aren't many similarities to the dream; just that it's Azula x Katara. I couldn't bring myself to turn it into an "M"-rated story, so here it sits at a "T"-rating.

**----------**

I lie awake, asking myself (_"why, why, why?"_), long after it happened. Long after you came to me.

You came like a storm sweeping over the plain... violent, dark, _inevitable_. _How_ did you find me? With only the stars to guide you, you hunted me to this very spot in the middle of the forest. You looked no worse for the wear, so you hadn't been searching long.

I knew I should've slept with the others tonight. I couldn't take the fighting; couldn't take the bickering since Zuko joined this afternoon. Nothing I said could alleviate the tension. But _you_... you went and _killed your own uncle_... the one person who could bring order to our group; to the _world_. Why am I telling you this? You don't care. You aren't _capable_ of such tender expression.

I should've toughed it out.

You demanded to know where Aang was, or, as you put it, "the Avatar". I wouldn't talk.

Do you remember slapping me? It didn't surprise me – after all, you're known far-and-wide for your cruelty – but it stung all the same. I'm reaching up at this moment, tracing the claw marks on my cheek. The blood has dried, but the wound throbs with every breath I take – a lingering reminder of my defiance.

When you asked again, and I _still_ refused to tell you, down I went from a quickly-executed leg-sweep. I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of lying down and letting you stomp all over me, so I forced myself to my feet, immediately regretting such a brazen display.

You had the clear advantage, and you knew it. As long as there is breath in your body, you can bend. I chose to make camp in a land of dry timber.

You seem to know when people are at their weakest. I almost – _almost_ – admire you for your insight. It was a moonless night... not that it mattered without a water-source.

It seemed this night was made for you.

Then again, you weren't even bending. You were beating on me with fists and feet. You never once invoked a flame. ...I hate to admit it, but you didn't need to. To Firebend, you must train in the physical art itself. Even without your element, you're still dangerous.

Bending would have been overkill. I thought to myself, "Why not?... Don't you _want_ to kill me?"...

When it became apparent that your methods of torture weren't about to open my mouth, you halted your attack and stared at me. An unsettling leer. At that moment, I could see the wheels turning in your head through the window of your eyes.

I used to think gold was a pretty color, until I looked into those eyes.

There was no true feeling to them, just cold calculation. I remember – so vividly – being yanked from the tree you'd pinned me against and pushed to my knees, one firm hand gripping my shoulder to steady me... the other lowering to caress my cheek; the one you wounded only moments before. You touch was so cold... don't Firebenders have _warm_ hands? Did you dip your hands in ice-water for _me_?

I was trembling, wasn't I? I was showing fear of you for the first time, as much as it shamed me – _continues _to shame me. Your prior beatings didn't evoke this reaction... I could read you... I knew the blows were coming, so I had little to fear. I had time to mentally prepare; time to brace myself for the oncoming pain. But this touch... left me lost; afraid. Just _what_ were you going to do to me...?

No one had ever touched me like that before.

As if granting me one final chance to gloss over my acts of rebellion before proceeding with whatever _horrors_ you had in store for me, you asked about Aang for the last time. I could feel those claws of yours begin to press into my cheek as a warning. "Yes, yes, I'll tell you everything." ...isn't that what you wanted me to say?

If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were happier being told "no", judging by what was to come...

From the way your scowl turned to a smirk, I knew you heard me gasp as your hand went down – why didn't you strike my other cheek? – to trace the lining of my dress. Your strategy had changed _completely_. You couldn't beat the truth out of me, so you would humiliate me, instead.

Off went the white belt that held the dress closed.

How _dare_ you violate me like that! _Fire Nation filth!_ Even in my weakened state, I remember resisting you, hoping to land a blow with bitterly clenched fists, however fruitless it wound up being. Instead, I had further opened myself to your intentions by using what little strength I had left. So, when both your hands moved to grip my shoulders and yank the dress to the ground, I had no way of stopping you.

The Spirits heard my final plea, thank goodness, and you didn't even approach my pants. Yes, I accept that it could've been worse. But you made it horrible enough. You made sure of _that_ much.

Now that I think about it, I don't know why I was so surprised by your actions. I figured you were into girls. _That_ wasn't what shocked me. It... was your forwardness; your initiative. What kind of Princesses does the Fire Nation raise? Then again, your society is backwards – everything about it is _wrong, wrong, wrong_. A perverted Princess shouldn't be out of the question, I guess.

Your hands were everywhere, seeking bare skin. I felt like spitting in your face when you literally tore the coverings off my chest, but I admit: I feared your rebuttal. I feared you would reconsider; decide to venture lower as punishment.

"What say you, peasant? Will you talk _now_? Or are you enjoying yourself?"

You can't loosen my tongue – I would rather _die_ than betray Aang! But to suggest _enjoyment _at being _molested_...? Next time I see you, you're going to suffer like you've never suffered before. So help me, I'll bend the water in your body... _I don't care _that the art is forbidden. _What you did to me_ was forbidden. Unfortunately for you, I believe in "an-eye-for-an-eye".

I hope you enjoyed your little grope session, because I'm already plotting my revenge.

I know you wanted to do more... I could see it in your eyes. But, ironically enough, it was by the grace of your two lackeys – they can't possibly be your _friends _– that you were forced to stop. They called to you, claiming to have a lead on the Avatar's trail. I highly doubted it, but I wasn't about to correct them. They were a godsend; I wouldn't spoil their unintentional intervention.

With a clear look of disappointment – oh, you wanted to do _so much more_, and you knew you would never have this chance again – you stood and followed the sound of their voices.

Now, here I lie sprawled out, in a tattered dress without upper undergarments, thanks to _you_. The night feels strangely chilly, when it had been so stifling before _this_ happened. Funny how that changed, isn't it? A Firebender came and made me cold.

Yes, I'm _still_ asking myself (_"why, why, why?"_), long after it happened. Long after you came to me. I can't help but wonder what I had done to deserve this...

...but, as physically and mentally _beaten_ as I am, I remain the victor this night. I never told you about Aang. Your lackeys led you on a wild goose chase, whether or not it was their intention. They had _no_ idea where he was, and I'm letting myself smile for the first time in hours at the thought of you wandering aimlessly through this wasteland with nothing to show for it.

Still, it's only _a fraction_ of what you deserve. But don't worry, Azula... I'll be happy to give you the rest.

You can't push against water without expecting it to push back.


End file.
